And oh, it grieves me much to write
His melancholy end;
Then let us leave the dreadful sight,
And thoughts of pity send.
But may we this important truth
Observe and ever hold:
“All those who’re idle in their youth
Will suffer when they’re old.”
CASABIANCA.
The boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled!
The flame that lit the battle’s wreck,
Shone round him o’er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud though childlike form.